A Spike and Buffy Adventure – Literally!
Setting: Season 6, goes AU after Doublemeat Palace.
Warnings/Rating: 15. Okay… er… R I suppose. Lots and lots of naughty words anyway.
Summary: ‘She’d been a passenger in Spike’s mind way too long already; she didn’t want to stay there. Sharing one body was too… intimate and intimate was the one thing she didn’t want to be with Spike…’
And lest I forget: Many thanks go to myfeetshowit, who really should get a medal for her efforts and for listening to all my whinging and hesadevil who reassured me I hadn’t written a load of old tosh!
The crypt door slammed shut with a finality Zelda would have found ironic if she’d not been too preoccupied to notice. She was still fuming. Any pleasure felt at screwing over the Slayer had evaporated as soon as her boots touched the soft cemetery turf. Her fake smile dropped into an acid frown. For the first time in half a millennia she was an ordinary girl again. She would age and die – just because some kinky vampire was under the delusion that a Slayer would make him a good girlfriend.
The world never ceased to amaze her.
She had to face it. Arda was gone forever, lost far beyond her reach. Her rituals might have raised him from hell the first time, but without the Heartstone they would never be strong enough to spring him from where he’d been sent, even with the stars aligned at the correct time and place. She barely had enough energy to summon up a good curse anymore; punching holes through dimensional walls was a little too advanced.
It was over.
She sought solace in the spectacular colours of the sunset. Against the blush of pinks and the dazzling golds, sheets of filmy clouds stretched above her, reflecting the dying rays of the sinking sun in silver ripples of vapour. The same sun had watched over her for five hundred long years, its movements through the zodiac guiding her search for a way to return Arda from exile and it was about the only thing that wouldn’t change now. She sat down on a gravestone and stared sullenly at the crypt. She sniffed. It wasn’t fair. Those two losers had each other and all she had left were faded memories.
She wasn’t going to cry, she wasn’t.
“‘Today is the first day of the rest of your life’. That’s what they say.”
Zelda wiped her tears away and looked up. Tom Nightshade’s big hairy hippie face was beaming back at her. “Not you again,” she spat, wrapping her arms around herself and evading his all-knowing eyes. “Fuck off and die.”
Much to her horror, he sat down beside her, making her shift to the very edge of the headstone. He still stank like a tramp’s armpit. “Sorry, no can do on that. How’s life working out for you?”
“Fucking brilliant.” She couldn’t resist a brief glance at the crypt again; vampires were flammable, weren’t they? If she could just generate a spark…
“Gum?” he offered, producing a packet from the pocket of his threadbare jeans.
She wrinkled up her nose, thinking of where the packet been and the parts it had been close to. “I don’t think so.”
“Shame, life always seems a little bit brighter when you chew, least I think so anyways.” He took a stick from the pack and posted it through his beard into his mouth. “You did a great job by the way.”
She snorted bitterly. “A great job of what? I fucked it all up.”
Tom chewed loudly, loud enough to make her feel ill. “You were never going to get Arda back, you know that. Face it, he forgot about you years ago.”
“How can you say that?” she snapped.
“I know it.” Tom tapped his nose. “Now, don’t you worry, you’ll be alright, we’ll see to that. You’ve served us well. That’s very commendable.”
“I’ve served you? How?” she asked with a sinking feeling.
Tom pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, indicating the crypt. “Those two. They’ve been fighting us all along. The Slayer, now there’s a gal that’s had it tough of late. She’s been dead you see, an’ she wasn’t seeing what was staring her in the face. We gave her a nudge, tinkered with the little witch’s spell a bit, ‘cause she jus’ needed to see that life ain’t so bad and there’s someone there who’s waiting for her.” He chuckled. “Been quite the task getting them kids to even like each other, I tell ya, an’ you managed to set them on the right track at last. Fitted the last piece of the puzzle so to speak.”
“But why?” Disgusted, Zelda got to her feet. “They didn’t sound like they had any trouble getting it together to me.”
“That’s not the sort of together we mean, honey. Not that we look down on a little Free Love now and again, especially if you’re offering…” Tom gave her a wink as he leered at her ass.
She took a sharp step back. “No, no fucking way are you ever touching me like that!”
His eyes drifted up to her face, but only after a lingering detour along the curve of her breasts. “No harm in trying that’s what I say. Anyhow, those two, they got a lot to work out and they’ll need to, ‘cause that girl has quite the busy future. She’ll need a lovin’ partner to see that through, an’ we found her the best we could get. Love’s funny like that, as you know well. It don’t always come from the smartest of places, ‘cause that vamp, he was going be a hard sell from the beginning and we needed an insurance policy. That’s where you came in.”
She stared at him in disbelief, finally beginning to understand what he was telling her. “Hey! Wait a minute,” she poked the finger she was waving at him back at herself. “You mean my whole purpose in life was to get those two retards together?”
Tom grinned at her broadly, chewing with his mouth open. “That’s the way it works, little princess.”
“No!” she protested, pacing. “No. My life, my whole fucking life, was one just big farce?”
Tom blinked at her, unfazed by her vitriol. “If it makes you feel any better, you still have plenty of years ahead of you.”
“Alone?” she scoffed. “Thanks a lot.”
“That’s up to you, but with that shitty attitude of yours, you might have a point.” Tom stood up and put an arm around her shoulders. She found herself being steered out of the cemetery. “You seem to have done mighty fine on your own. Why do you need to go change that now?”
“I never wanted that. I wanted him.”
“Them’s the breaks, kid. Loving a demon is hard work.” He stopped as they reached the cemetery gates and pointed at the sky. “Hey, look up there. There’s the first star of the night. Wanna wish on it?”
Zelda squinted up at the heavens. A few stars had just begun to twinkle through the Southern Californian smog, valiantly bright against a sky of peacock blue. “I wish you were dead.”
Tom clapped her on the back and nearly knocked her slight body over with his big hand. “You know what? I think you gonna be just fine!”
That’s what they called all the stuff that you didn’t want to know, but caught up with you anyway. They were pesky things that didn’t stay buried like they ought. A bit like some people she could mention.
Buffy knew hard truths all too well; she’d faced plenty in her time. Sometimes she felt like she’d spent all her life avoiding one or another; the reality of her parent’s divorce, the acceptance of her calling, the necessity of sending Angel to hell, the list just got longer and harder to bear, so what was one more item to worry about?
She loved Spike.
Spike the soulless, evil, chip-headed, annoying, frustrating, persistent, slayer-killing, vampire that just would not go away. It couldn’t be the real her that felt this way, could it? She was some sicko that was it. She had to be. Maybe Spike was right, she had come back wrong.
Wrong, wrong, wrong…
But if she was so wrong, why did she feel so much better now?
It all came back to Tara’s spell. It had done something to her, something deep, fundamental, profound. Buffy couldn’t see how Tara could have done it. The charm had wiped away her depression, just like that. Tara wasn’t that powerful, her spells were charms and tokens, fancies and neat Halloween tricks. Yet the difference was tangible.
Something else was going on. It had to be. She’d changed inside; properly and not the silly surfacey effects you got with magic. Responsibly was still a drag, but it was no longer dragging her down to despair. She wanted to live again and not be swallowed by the darkness. Perhaps it was best to accept the benefits as they were.
From her vantage point curled up in his chair, she watched Spike as he moved around. He was pacing and trying not to show it, pretending to do small tasks around the crypt, but all the time his attention was really on her. She could see he was anxious, desperate for her to speak, but not wanting to start the conversation. He still thought she was dumping him.
Was she? She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do now. A relationship with him was a bad, bad idea, but the thought of walking away felt pretty crappy too.
“I need a cigarette,” she moaned, leaning her head on her hand. She didn’t have a clue what to do.
Spike flipped her the packet, leaning against the sarcophagus as he lit his own. She caught the box but didn’t take one, turning it in her hands instead. Okay, she couldn’t deny her feelings for him anymore, but smoking was one habit she was definitely going to quit.
“When were you planning on telling me?” he said eventually.
Her head snapped up. “I… I dunno. I only just figured it out.”
“So you use me for bit,” He jabbed in her direction with the cigarette. “Take a ride in my head and just say goodbye?”
“No! No. I didn’t mean that.”
“What did you mean?”
“I meant…” Maybe she did need a cigarette after all.“…the other stuff.”
Spike snorted. “‘Other stuff’?”
“You know, about how the stone worked.” Damn, he was going to make her say it. She sighed. “Okay if we’re going to do this, there have to be some ground rules.”
“You surprise me.” His words were sarcastic, showing some of the bitterness he’d built up, but they didn’t match the hope in his voice or the sparkle that brightened his eyes.
Maybe she was being cruel. Before, when all this had just been a sex thing, she could keep him in his place, keep him from thinking that this was going somewhere, now he looked like he was about to go and pick out the rings.
This couldn’t work. “I have to know I can trust you.”
“You know the answer to that,” he told her quickly. He was still keeping a wary distance, probably until he knew for sure what she was going to do. “I wouldn’t…”
“Yet.” She didn’t doubt that he meant it, but she couldn’t guess how much his words would mean once she was out of sight or if the chip came out. Could she really rely on his vampire judgement if he was offered a cut of some shady scheme? Whatever he meant or said, he was still evil.
He frowned a little, but then gave her that look. The earnest one that was supposed to melt her resolve. It hadn’t really worked on her before, mostly because every time he’d tried it she’d been so angry at him that nothing was going to change her mind, but this time her stomach did a little flip.
“I mean it. I’ll be good,” he promised.
Damn. He had to look so enticing when she was trying to convince herself what a stupid idea this was. She wasn’t going to get far telling him they were over if she was mentally unbuttoning his shirt at the same time. She caught herself watching his cigarette as it bounced on his lower lip. She had much better uses for his mouth. Fuck it, the ground rules could wait until tomorrow, it wasn’t as if she wasn’t halfway into this relationship already or could easily deny the weird alchemy that drew them together so perfectly.
Despite herself she gave him a naughty smile, which he returned with the filthiest smirk she’d ever seen ever. It wasn’t fair. He had a hundred year start on her in the sexiness stakes.
But oh yeah, what the hell. Buffy like.
She unfurled her legs and slipped out of the chair, drawn to him as if on invisible strings. This relationship would never be easy. They’d still fight and he’d still piss her off, and there was every chance he’d still meet the business end of Mr Pointy one dark night, but it was too late to go back now. She didn’t want to think about this complicated stuff anymore. There was a long night ahead of them and she’d face the consequences tomorrow. Right now she needed the comfort of strong arms and yummy kisses. She knew he wouldn’t disagree.
She was right. Spike had no arguments. His eyes fell shut and the kiss he gave her was light as air, but something so soft couldn’t last and it quickly deepened into an eager caress laden with hopes, fears and a whole lotta love.
Breathless, she pulled away with a gasp, only to immediately lean in again for more. She wanted this kiss to be endless, but there was something she needed to say, even though she hated to break the connection for something as trivial as words. Her mouth brushed his, but she kept the touch minimal, a gentle stroke that sent tingles across her lip.
His mouth was open, desperately seeking hers as his hands tried other methods of persuasion. She had to duck his questing lips and nip at his jaw line instead; what she had to say was too important, too personal to be interrupted. A kiss against his ear was a promise, a call for patience, even as her fingers eagerly popped open the bottom buttons of his shirt like she’d been dying to do all along.
“I want you to come over for dinner tomorrow. We could just spend time together,” she whispered.
To say he smiled would be an understatement. He pulled back and beamed at her, then dropped his eyes as if embarrassed by his reaction. “I love you,” he blurted out.
Her mouth moved silently as she tried to think of something to say. She wasn’t sure if she could say the words just yet. “I…”
“Don’t.” He placed a finger over her lips. “I can wait.”
She gave him a bright smile in thanks as her hands spread out across his chest. “We can try out my bed,” she offered as consolation. She wasn’t going to cover it in rose petals, but maybe she’d be ready to confess her feelings in words not just actions.
“Maybe…” he said with a flirty flick of an eyebrow as he unzipped her skirt, “tonight could be a trial run.”
Then he grabbed her, whisking her off her feet as he shoved her back into the wall where he kissed her forcefully. This might be a new beginning where touch would mean much more than bruises and lust, but they would still want a lot of that too.
Which right then, as his mouth locked on hers in a sensual tangle of tongues, suited Buffy just fine.
That’s your lot!
Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/171495.html